Not So Empty
by Bohemian Storm
Summary: Despite hard times that loom ahead of them Sirius and Remus how much they have right in front of them. Implied slash.


**Disclaimer:  **Sadly, I don't own any of them.  If you're somehow convinced that I do own them, you're crazy. :D  The lyrics belong to Lifehouse. 

**Notes:**  I will now remind you that this is slash and that if slash is not your thing, you shouldn't read this.  Flames will be used to toast marshmallows.  Take place during OotP.  Inspired by Sirius's crazy mood swings and, of course, the song.

**Not So Empty**

_By Bohemian Storm_

            He knew that his words would disrupt the soft quiet that had gathered around them.  He knew that what he was about to say would cause pain, and possibly tears and anger.  He knew that if Sirius knew what he was planning, he would tell him not to worry about anything.  That was why Remus had to catch him off guard.

            "How do you do it?"

            Sirius looked up from his cup of coffee.  "Hmm?"

            Remus smiled.  "I asked how you do it."

            Sirius frowned.  "How do I do what?"

            "Ricochet."

            Sirius looked even more confused at this.  "Ricochet?  Moony, my friend, I think you've lost your mind."

            Remus hid his smile this time.  "No, I'm perfectly sane, Padfoot.  I'm asking how your emotions ricochet all over the place."

            Sirius arched an eyebrow.  "That's your question?  Can I ask why it took you fifteen minutes to ask that?"

            "Beating around the bush, I suppose.  Now answer me."

            Sirius shrugged.  "Maybe I'm bi-polar."

            Remus feigned horror.  "Such a Muggle term.  What would your mother thing?"

            Sirius rolled his eyes.  "I was joking," he said dryly.

            "I gathered."

            Silence fell over the kitchen again as Remus continued to watch Sirius.  He had honestly wanted an answer, but his friend seemed determined not to give one.  He wondered if it had anything to do with the events that were unraveling around them.  He knew that Sirius was scared whether he admitted it or not.  It was hard not to know a person's fears when they whispered of them in the dark while clutching your hand hard enough to break bones.    

            "I want to know," he said finally.

            Sirius smiled sadly.  "Do you really?"

            Remus nodded.  "I want to know what's wrong with you."

            Sirius took a sip of his coffee, then wrapped his hands around the steaming mug.

            "I think Azkaban killed me," he said softly.

_Too late to hide_

_Too tired to care_

_Take what you've learned and forget the rest_

_Take what you see_

_Of what's left of me_

_You know where I've been_

_And I don't want to go there again_

            Remus stared.  Those weren't the words he had expected to hear.  He expected an argument, an annoyed glance and a request to shut up.  He had never expected for Sirius to take his question seriously, let alone have an answer that seemed so thought out and prepared.  

            The silence that filled the kitchen this time was tense, nothing like the comfortable quiet they had enjoyed only moments earlier.  It was a silence in which neither knew what to say, both struggling for words.  Sirius wondered what he could say that might take the edge from the statement and Remus wondered what he could possibly say in response.

            "Killed you?" he finally murmured.

            Sirius smiled wryly.  "I suppose I sound rather melodramatic."

            "A bit," Remus admitted.

            "I thought about those words for a very, very long time," Sirius said.  "Since I escaped I wondered how I would finally say what I've felt for so long.  Those were the only words I ever came up with that felt right."  He shrugged, suddenly seeming embarrassed.  "They felt truthful," he mumbled.

            "I had no idea," Remus said.

            "But you wanted to know."

            Remus reached across the table and gently prodded Sirius's arm.  "You don't feel dead to me," he said, his joke falling flat even before it left his mouth.

            Sirius cast his eyes downward, unable to meet Remus's gaze.

            "I feel dead to myself.  I just don't feel anymore."

            "The mood swings . . ." Remus trailed off.

            "I'm going crazy, Moony," Sirius said.  "Sometimes I feel so much at once.  I feel all this . . . love, this weird tenderness that I never imagined I'd ever feel.  I feel protective of Harry and you, and . . . God, I feel protective of Molly in those times even.  Sometimes I want to strangle her, but if anything were to happen."  He turned his eyes to Remus finally.  "She has children, Moony.  I'll never get that.  Harry's the closest thing I have to my own and . . . he's not mine," he said finally, the smiled weakly.  "Quite the tangent, huh?"

            Remus tried to smile back and found that he couldn't.

_You're beautiful_

_You're confusing_

_You're illogical_

_You're amazing_

            "You can talk to me," Remus said instead of smiling.  "You do know that, don't you?"

            Sirius sighed.  "I have a feeling that I say enough in my sleep."

            Remus flushed.  

            "You didn't think I knew that I spoke in my sleep," Sirius said.  "It's alright.  I don't mind that you hear what I say."  He paused for a very long time.  "What do I say, Moony?"

            "You . . ." Remus trailed off and cleared his throat.  "You don't exactly say anything.  You mumble about Azkaban and Dementors and … guilt, I suppose.  You sound so scared.  And you hurt me."

            Sirius's eyes widened.

            Remus was finally able to smile.  "You squeeze my hand."

            "Oh."  Sirius looked visibly relieved and smiled a little.  "Sorry about that."

            "I've survived thus far, haven't I?"

            "What are you so scared of, Padfoot?"

            Sirius sighed and took another sip of his coffee.  "Do we really need to have this talk?  I mean, it's almost Christmas, Moony.  Can't we just forget about it and lose ourselves to mistletoe and presents?"

            "Consider this your present to me," Remus said.  "I'd really like to know.  After all, the world around us is about to explode.  Who knows if we'll both survive the war."

            "Don't say that," Sirius exclaimed, reaching across the table and grabbing Remus's hand.  "Don't ever say that."

            It took Remus barely a second to register the fear in Sirius's voice, the urgency with which he grasped his hand.  In that moment he knew exactly what Sirius was scared of at night, what he feared and what he had nightmares about.  He didn't need his friend to say it anymore because it was suddenly so obvious and he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before.    

_I've been down_

_This road before_

_All that I've found points right back to you_

_I've watched you move_

_From down below_

_Where do I go from here_

_I guess I'll find out as I go_

            "I'm sorry, Padfoot," he whispered, suddenly very aware of the crushing grip Sirius had on his hand.  "I . . . didn't . . . what I mean is that-"

            "I don't want you to lie," Sirius said, letting go of Remus's hand.  "Don't lie because you want me to feel better.  You let me stay with you because . . ." he trailed off and laughed dryly.  "I don't even know why you let me stay with you at night.  Why do you?"

            It was Remus who found himself at a loss for words this time around, his mind whirling furiously, but nothing coming from his mouth.

            "Don't lie," Sirius repeated, then stood up from the table and went to stand in the doorway, twisting his hands nervously.

            "I . . . don't know why either," Remus admitted finally.  "Maybe I'm just selfish."

            "How?"

            "Face it, Padfoot, we haven't exactly lived in the best of times.  This is our second war."  He shook his head, looking pained.  "No one should have to witness two wars, let alone see their best friends murdered in one.  No one should have to worry that they're going to lose more people they care about."

            Sirius leaned against the door frame, still staring at his hands and twisting them.  "How does that make you selfish?" he asked.

            "Doesn't it?" Remus asked.  "Doesn't it make me selfish to want you around only because I'm afraid I'll lose you again?"

            Sirius shrugged.  "I don't know.  I don't think it does, but you obviously think differently."

            "I can't explain it very well."

            "Why'd you pick today to ask me about this?" Sirius asked.

            Remus shrugged.  "I don't really know.  I worry about you."

            "You shouldn't."

            "Do you really feel dead sometimes?"

            Sirius nodded.

            Remus smiled sadly.  "Well, then you have no choice in the matter.  I'm going to worry."

            "I wish I didn't," Sirius said, his voice quiet and low.  "I wish I could be the person I used to be.  For you, y'know."

_You're beautiful_

_You're confusing_

_You're illogical_

_You're amazing_

            Remus smiled.  "You don't have to change for me.  I love the person you are."

            "Really?"

            Remus nodded.  "Would I let just any man sleep in my bed?"

            Sirius grinned, glancing downward again.  His dark hair fell into his eyes and Remus has to resist the urge to go over to him and brush it away.  Silences between them could be so comfortable and this was one of those times.  Neither had any desire to break it with a clearing of their throat or an attempt at furthering the conversation.  Neither knew what to say anymore and just basked in the silence that years of friendship allowed them.

            "Do you really love me?" Sirius asked finally in a small voice so unlike his own.

            Remus finally stood and went to the doorway, leaning against the other side of the frame.  

            "How could I not?"

            "I'm sure many people manage to not love me," Sirius said.  "In fact, I'm sure that more than half of the world hates me with a burning passion."

            "But they don't know you," Remus said.  "I do."

            "I suppose I can accept that," Sirius replied, still smiling softly.  

            "Well, then my life is just complete," Remus said jokingly.  "Sirius Black finally trusts my word."

            "Your word?  Bah, it's worth nothing," Sirius said, grinning.  "Now, how about helping me decorate for Christmas?  We can't have Christmas without mistletoe."

            "It looks like Kreacher's ahead of you," Remus said, smiling and pointing to the rotten, brown bundle of mistletoe hanging above Sirius's head.

            Sirius snickered.  "Oh, he's such a little bundle of joy."

            "Well, you know the tradition," Remus said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against Sirius's cheek.

            "Right," Sirius said.  "Tradition."  He stared at Remus for a long moment before reaching out and taking Remus's face in his hands.  "Thank you," he said, before pressing a soft kiss to Remus's forehead.

            Remus smiled.  "Anytime, Padfoot."

            "Merry Christmas, Moony."  Sirius grinned.  "I'm taking you up on that offer that this conversation could be your Christmas present.  No presents for you under this tree."

            "Grand," Remus said dryly.  "There better be plenty of mistletoe Christmas morning or there's no way I'm getting out of bed before noon."

            "I'll let you squeeze my hand just as hard as I do during the night," Sirius offered with a grin.

            Remus considered this, then smiled.  "Deal." 

_I've seen the world_

_It's overrated_

_Until you're everything_

_I have nothing but an empty space_

End

**More Notes:  **This descended from angst to senseless fluff, but it made me happy.


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